


and it's hot Hot HOT!

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Deepthroating, First Kiss, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Praise Kink, Topping from the Bottom, Underwater Blow Jobs, i cant remember what to tag and i dont wanna read it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And she's on top of meand it is hot hot hot!She says "come on sweetheart, take 'em off."So I will take 'em off, and then we take 'em offAnd then her dad walks in—oh shit her dad walks in— McCafferty - BeachBoy





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yeah it is that tik tok meme and yeah it's a Bop
> 
> also i wrote this to get out of writers block :,)

He never knew how vulnerable he could feel, how taken apart and laid out one can be until the day his lips crashed against the older man’s, a clumsy mess of biting and rough kissing that should be enough to bruise. It’s so messy and disorganized that he doesn’t even feel like it’s Hannibal he’s kissing, or at least not the one he knows. He knows the graceful one that composes himself under the most pressured situations.

He’s shaking so bad he can’t unbutton the buttons to his waist jacket, and his face is flushed down to his neck and he feels so crowded in. He hates it and loves it at the same time. There’s a thrill to it unlike his past lovers, Molly and Margot being the notable ones. Here it’s so raw and passion filled that he doesn’t know what to do.

He knows there’s a cut on his lip, or on Hannibal’s, and he can taste the bitter iron but he can’t bring himself to care as his hands get shoved to the side so viciously his head swims in it. It’s so aggressive, not the steady build up he had experienced with other’s. He’s soaking in it and he never wants to give it up.

There’s lips and teeth to his neck, working at the skin there and irritating it until it’s an angry red. And—oh God—he has seen this man tear someone’s throat out with just his mouth, and now he’s letting him so close. He doesn’t notice his shirt had come undone until he feels hands on his chest, on his abdomen, on his belly, exploring and desperate. They were new lovers, free to do whatever they wanted.

He’s vaguely aware of the uncomfortable pressure in his neck and his back as he’s pressed further into the couch, the armrest preventing his head from dipping further. Nails dug into his sides and raked down, leaving angry red trails that matched the color of the spots on his neck. He could feel bruises being sucked into his collar bone, and he could feel overwhelming emotions ebbing into his chest like the tide of the sea. He would never let someone be all over him like this, but Hannibal’s so demanding that he barely recognizes his own needs anymore.

He feels worshiped and cherished, and it makes his mind buzz and his chest tighten with delight as he grips his hands into the graying hair of his lover. He hears his belt unbuckle, the metal clicking against metal as the leather is pulled through the loops and released from the denim, clattering onto the floor, but not forgotten. He can’t do anything with how Hannibal had pinned his arms behind his back as he was pushed back into the couch, and all he could do was squirm.

Hannibal sits up abruptly, leaving Will cold with the absence of his warmth, but the cold is forgotten when nails dig so harshly into his thighs as his pants are pulled down. It’s brutal but caring at the same time, and he feels as if he’s going to melt right there into the couch. His skin feels as if it's on fire, yet he wants so much more.

His boxers are pulled down enough to expose his pale hips and pubic hair, but his half filled cock still stays trapped in the cheap fabric. His eye lashes flutter at the little amount of friction it gives him when he moves, and it doesn’t help when Hannibal is stripping himself of his shirt in front of Will. And then he’s yanked into another bruising kiss, teeth scraping against teeth and drawing blood from lips.

He pulls his arms up and wraps them around Hannibal’s neck, pulling him even closer, caution completely thrown out the window _(like Alana in season 2)_ at this point. Hannibal sits up from his bent over position, bringing Will into his lap in that one motion. His hands settle on his thighs, pressing and sliding up to knead at his ass, teasing the idea. He relishes the smothered groan that Will emits.

He almost wants to let the younger man take control, explore Hannibal’s body but he also wants to make him cry and beg, voice broken from the amount of pleasure. He drags one of his hands to the front of Will, right in the middle of their bodies, hand still on the outside of the dark gray fabric. He presses right when he’s over his groin, and smiles at the lovely sound Will lets out once again.

He feels young in this moment, like he was a teenager exploring another’s body for the first time, needy and curious. Though, this time they both know what’s going to happen.

Being one for surprises _(Mizumono taught us that,)_ he’s suddenly twisting Will’s pliant body over and pressing his face into the armrest of the couch. Will lets out a gasp of shock, choked back by the air that’s punched out of him by the forced. His knees are spread and one’s dangerously close to the edge, but he wouldn’t care if he fell.

His boxers are pushed down, enough to expose his ass but not enough to free his swelled up cock. Desperation makes its presence known as he grinds back into Hannibal, immediately being pushed back into place by strong hands. And then suddenly leather is pressed into the skin of his arms, and the belt is tightening around his arms to where the position was uncomfortable. He can’t bring himself to complain because that just suddenly adds to the heat of the situation.

“Is this okay, Will?” He hears Hannibal murmur, and he let himself hum what he hopes would sound like a yes. He’s past coherency now, and he doesn’t want to force himself to talk.

He hears Hannibal shed his pants and hears the clothing fall to the floor with lacking grace that Hannibal had abandoned at that moment in time. A shiver creeps down his spine as anticipation settles in, his cock aching for decent friction by now. He closes his eyes and buries his face into the soft fabric of the couch, a year of smells now imprinted on the thing.

There’s nothing behind him for a long time, before there’s weight settling behind him again and he almost jumps but then there’s a hand on his lower back, warm and grounding. For Will, sex had always been about the release but now it feels so ritualistic in the way Hannibal presents it, aggressive and raging but passionate and gentle at the same time.

Then suddenly there’s a finger at his rim, pushing against it and testing, and a needy whine escapes his throat before he can stop it. He knows his neck is gonna ache after this, already uncomfortable in the position he’s in, and he knows his arms are going to be bruised with the belt that’s tied around them, but that just sends a jolt to his cock.

Finally the finger pushes in, and he lets out a relieved groan that could also be a sob, his back arching against it. It’s uncomfortable and unfamiliar, yet he welcomes it. He pushes back, and this time he isn’t pushed back into place. The hand on his lower back strokes along his spine, soothing the shivers that run along it. Moments ago, Hannibal was rough and vicious, now he was kind and calming and it threw Will off.

And then there’s another finger suddenly, now both pumping inside of him and sending jolts of pleasure straight to his cock that’s still trapped in his boxers and painfully hard. There’s so many sensations, and he’s overwhelmed by all of them, and the way his eyes water and tears gloss his eyes and spill down his cheeks adds to the mix.

He isn’t crying, he knows that, but his senses were flared up, and every touch Hannibal administered made him feel like his whole body was on fire. He was surprised he hadn’t had a sensory overload at this point, but it all feels so good to him. Just when he thought Hannibal was done and felt the slide of his fingers beginning to pull out, a hurt sound threatening on the back of his tongue, another finger joins.

“Do you think you can cum on just my fingers alone, Will? Can you do that for me?” He speaks so quietly, almost as if he was soothing a frightened animal and not finger fucking his lover on the couch at 3 in the afternoon. It takes Will a moment, but he nods into the armrest, and Hannibal makes a sound in the back of his throat in acknowledgement to his answer.

His fingers thrust deeper, it felt like, and then something suddenly sparked and he lets out a mixture of a moan and a gasp as his vision blurs for a moment. He has no idea what Hannibal had just done, but he finds himself begging for more, murmuring incoherent pleas for him to do  _ that _ again. And then he does it again and this time it’s more confident and right on, and he’s gasping again like a fish out of water. His cock strains against the material it’s enclosed in, leaking slowly.

He’s so close, but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment by grinding forward to chase his release. It turns out all he needs is another push against that spot and he’s cumming, shouting out a cry as his back arches and his whole body tenses. He comes back to Hannibal still stroking his back, mumbling praises in his ear. The fingers are gone, but he knows it isn’t over yet.

He slumps against the couch in the aftermath of his orgasm, body warming at the exhaustion it brings over him. He’s eager to keep going but he also wants to curl into a large, thick blanket next to Hannibal and sleep. The belt on his arms comes undone and he’s rolled over onto his back, met with a soft kiss to his lips. This time it’s warm and inviting and so soft.

His boxers slide off his thighs easily and fall to the ground, the crotch area damp with his cum. He’s panting quietly still, staring up at Hannibal with a soft gaze. He doesn’t know what they’re waiting for, but he lays in anticipation, preening under the praise he’s given. After a minute or so the soft touches and caresses turn into nails and hunger. He gets another bruising kiss, and it feels as if his breath is stolen in the sudden mood shift.

Hannibal tugs off his own boxers, his clothes drastically different than Will’s, in both style and material. He grinds against Will, both of them bare now. Their cocks slide together, slicked by Will’s release, and he realizes what he’s doing. A spark of arousal causes his cock start to fill out again.

Hannibal scrapes his teeth against the shell of his ear, and it sends a shiver running through him at the feeling. He continues to grind their cocks together, reaching his previously lubed hand down between them to grab both of them. Will groans quietly, his head falling back arching into his touch. “I can’t go for three, darlin’,” He mumbles, his old southern accent edging at his slurred words.

“I know,” Hannibal murmurs back, breath ghosting over Will’s face. Their lips don’t connect this time, but merely brush together as an afterthought, Hannibal withdrawing from their closeness. Will watches him, no longer feeling as if he was the prey being stalked by the predator anymore. Now he was even with the predator, the same.

Then the head of Hannibal’s cock was pressing at his hole and suddenly he was floating again, mind heated _(almost like in season 1.)_ He doesn’t know whether or not to push back or pull away, and he reaches to dig his nails into Hannibal’s thighs to ground himself. Slowly, he sinks in and it’s painful and burning, an unpleasant stretch that makes Will squirm even with the prepping done.

Hannibal reaches down and presses his thumb to the head of Will’s cock, capturing his lips into a kiss, both in an attempt to soothe the discomfort. He rocks his hips just barely, reaching up with his other hand to cup Will’s face as he kisses him. He attempts to give a small thrust, but the movement sends a gasp from Will’s mouth and he’s sobbing, “No, no, please don’t move.”

Hannibal quickly stops, trapping Will’s hips between his thighs as he bends down to press their foreheads together. There’s something so intimate from being watched by teary eyes, blue glossy with the threat of tears and it’s so satisfying to Hannibal that he had caused this. He had complete control over the situation.

They waited for a few minutes, basking in the closeness they shared in that little moment of time. Once he felt all of Will’s muscles relax and his pain start to fade, then he pulled back slowly. Will stared up at him with sleepy eyes, tired from how long this has drawn out but eager for more. After a small pause, he snaps his hips back like a elastic rubber band, eliciting a howl out of Will, only this time it was from the shocked pleasure and ebbing pain.

He begins a brutal pace, holding Will down will a bruising grip but he knows that Will could escape easily. He greedily soaks up all the noises that come from Will’s mouth, thirsty for more. He feels the sharp bite of nails on his thighs, and he knows that Will has his hands there.

Hannibal leans down and rests his head against the crook of Will’s neck, not letting his pace relent as he sucks more marks against the other’s skin, bruises soon to blossom there. He feels a twinge of pride, knowing that Will was going to be wearing his marks for the next two weeks. He leans back to admire his work and to press deeper into Will, finally slowing his pace.

“My beautiful boy, all well behaved for me,” He whispers, and that’s all it took along with a sharp thrust and Will was cumming again, writhing underneath Hannibal and groaning. He lets Will ride out the orgasm and climb down from the high until he picks up the speed, finishing himself off while enjoying the way Will’s body twisted away from the over-sensitivity.

He held him close as he released, both laying there in the afterglow of their activities. They’re both covered in a thick layer of sweat, cum sticky on both of their stomachs. Will lets out a soft sigh, eyes closing as Hannibal traces the outline of his face with his eyes, admiring every detail and scar.

“I would offer a round two in the shower,” He begins after a few minutes pass by, and a smile twitches at Will’s lips.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t suck you off,” He replies back in a whisper, opening his eyes to meet Hannibal’s.

“Ready when you are, my dear Will.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6 pages of filth
> 
> take a shot every time i repeat the same thing over and over hfjshfgshfjk
> 
>  
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> 
> im trying so hard not to info dump about why i wrote this and why i chose those lyrics for the title anyway please enjoy (:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love feedback and comments and the last chapter's comments made me happy because it's rare to get comments  
> i don't reply cause i have 0 idea how to fhjsfhgsfh
> 
> this is just 3 thousand words of how-kinky-is-hannibal

The shower nozzle hissed out water, a flood splashing against the tub. The air started to crowd with steam, the mirror fogging and obscuring the vision of himself. He watches the pale figure behind him move, the bathtub starting to fill slowly, the sounds changing as the height of the water changes.

His hips and thighs and waist are in pain, and his neck is throbbing with discomfort but he still stays where he is, watching Hannibal’s form. It’s like a peace treaty, their bodies existing in the same space but not touching.

He knows his release is still caked onto his skin, dried and tacky now but he’s too tired to care about the discomforting feeling every time he shifts. Hannibal surely did a number on him, and he can see red blotches marking his chest, and he knows they’re more purple on his neck without having to look.

He hears the water cut off and the water slosh against the walls of the tub as Hannibal settles in, back against the sloped wall. He knows the water is probably scalding hot, and he knows that it’ll turn both of their skin hot pink and blood so much warmer.

He finally moves from his idle position, turning around and resting his gaze on Hannibal who stares up at him so expectantly. He’s so relaxed and looks so smug in the way he sits in the tub, below Will but calling the shots. Will’s stubborn and just smiles back, leaning against the now damp counter that had collected the steam onto its surface, slick with water.

He isn’t sure if he’s sweating from the hot air or from the results of teasing Hannibal, but he feels so powerful in that moment, feels like the cat that got the mouse. It’s remarkable how long the older man holds his gaze, poker face not cracking no matter how long the moment is dragged out. Will doesn’t feel shy or vulnerable anymore, though, and he has no urge to move to cover himself.

And then he’s pushing himself off the counter, making his way to the tub that’s full of the steaming water. He stops when his knees hit the wall, and he leans forward to pull his lover into a quick kiss that’s prolonged when a hand grips the back of his neck like steel, tight and caging him.

He crawls into the tub and straddles Hannibal’s hips, one of his hands resting on his chest, combing through the graying hair there. The water laps at his lower back, tickling the short hairs there, and he lets himself chuckle.

“You tryin’ to drown me?” He whispers against his lips, and he feels Hannibal smile in return, one of his hands spreading wide on Will’s ass. A shiver travels down his spine as nails press into the skin of his hip, dragging across. Nails that could probably slit the skin and let the red liquid seep out.

They finally release the kiss, panting quietly, breath mingling as they stare in each other’s eyes. And then Hannibal’s moving down, lips trailing down Will’s jaw and down his neck, scraping teeth against his Adam’s apple and Will lets out an embarrassingly loud whine at the threat of teeth. The fear is strangely arousing to know that Hannibal could rip his life out of him so simply.

Then they do sink in, right where his shoulder starts and his neck ends, imprinting into his skin but not tearing in. Will lets his hands grip tightly at Hannibal’s own shoulders, nails leaving crescents into his skin. He would complain that he is too tired for a Round 3, and that his ass is too sore and his thighs are burning in exhaustion but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs a hand through Hannibal’s hair, shaking.

Hannibal moves to another spot and bites there, hard enough to bruise. Will grinds down against him, hissing in pain and both wanting to pull back and press closer, ask him to spill his blood. He screws his eyes shut as Hannibal licks at the spot, humming a noise that could be predatory or pride.

He then grips tightly in Hannibal’s hair and makes sure it hurts as much as the new bites on his skin hurt, chasing the groan that Hannibal releases with his mouth. Their lips crash together yet again and it’s dirty and not the slow kiss they started this with. He bites his lower lip and tugs sharply, nails pressing even harder into his skin and stinging.

It was Will’s turn to leave marks across Hannibal’s body, and he does so slowly. He fixes onto the spot below his ear, teasing with his teeth and sucked at the skin until it’s bright pink. Then he trails his lips down his neck, ghosting so lightly that it makes Hannibal growl in impatience.

He continues like this until he gets to his nipples, and he immediately attaches his lips to one of them, flicking his tongue over it and scraping his teeth on the sensitive flesh. Nails trail up his back, deep and slow, turning his skin white and then angry red, adding to the other scratches on his thighs and hips.

He hears Hannibal’s breath hitch as he moves onto the other one, giving it the same treatment, mercilessly slow. He switches back and forth between them until there’s a hand heavy in his hair, nails in his scalp and digging, water soaking into his curls from Hannibal’s hand.

He’s pushed down slowly, and he raises his eyes to meet Hannibal’s. They’re both fighting for the control, now, both predators who are snarling their dominance. The difference was that Will was willing to wait as long as he wanted, but Hannibal was frustrated and his flawless patience was taken apart. It gives Will the upper hand, and he’s using it to his advantage by drawing it out.

“ _ Will _ ,” Hannibal murmurs, voice growling and warning but it wasn’t a threat to Will, it was another piece taken out of Hannibal’s control. Hannibal loves control and thrives off of it, and now was a sign of what happened when that control is taken from him. Will almost wants to demand that he keeps his hands to the sides, only allowed to watch him. There’s a chance that Hannibal would huff a laugh and forget the demand. Besides, the warmth of his hands was so comforting and the needy gripping was urging him on.

He gets to where the water is, just above Hannibal’s naval, hugging both of them. He steadies his breath as he sinks lower, submerging his face into the water. It’s so warm against his cheeks, against his eyelids, against his lips. His lungs protest the cut off air, but he stubbornly stays under, mouthing at the inside of Hannibal’s thigh.

His hands travel down to rest on his hips, caressing them gently. He moves to the other thigh and nuzzles into the space between his hip and leg, knowing it would only worsen the desperation. He’s so close to Hannibal’s hardening cock, but not touching. It’s flushed a pretty red, and Will almost wants to reach and wrap his hand around it but he keeps his control unlike Hannibal who was running his hands all over Will’s skin, exploring the expanse once more.

Finally he sits up from the water, drawing in a desperate breath, his lungs burning for it. He’s pulled into a kiss before he can compose himself, and he lets Hannibal bite at him and slip his tongue into his mouth.

“Look at you,” He whispers between kisses, unable to speak when Hannibal’s exploring his mouth. “So needy for my touch.” The older man makes a noise in response, a hum of agreement.

“I’ll let you use my throat.” The promise makes the hand that had come back to his neck and the hand on the back of his head tighten their grip. Will preened at the thought of being the only person that could make Hannibal like this, compliant without complaints.

He’s being pushed down after a chaste kiss, his face under the water before he can get a decent breath. It’s a small annoyance but he doesn’t have time to think about that before Hannibal’s cock head is pressed to his lips, urgent and needy. He lets him in, parting his lips, water and Hannibal’s cock filling the gap. He presses his tongue flat to him, feeling along the veins and ridges, the taste salty but watered down.

The first thrust barely hits his gag reflex, but the second goes past it, and he struggles to not choke on both the water and his cock. Tears well in his eyes at the sudden entry, and he feels him nudging the back of his throat. He knows that Hannibal enjoys his struggle, trying to get back that composure as another thrust is pressed into his throat.

He pulls back for breath, choking and sputtering on the water, face probably would have been dripping with tears that formed if it weren’t for the water that wiped them away. Hannibal lets him breathe and then he’s back down, and the thrusts are more sharp this time, pulling the breath from him.

He knows he pushed Hannibal past the point of control, and he knows he’s so needy. He wishes he could see his face, but his head his angled too forward and the water blocks his vision.

He reaches down with one of his hands and wraps a hand around his cock, giving it a sharp squeeze as Hannibal fucks into his throat. His gag reflex was still bad, but every thrust and every time he returned back under the water it got less and less.

Will pulls up from the water abruptly, and pulls Hannibal into a kiss, pointed avoiding giving him friction as he leans forward. It’s barely a kiss, more teeth used than lip. “Every time you do that you’re giving me more time to thing, my dear Will.” It’s a threat that holds a promise, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He can’t even begin to think of all the things Hannibal has thought of for punishment.

“I’m not allowed to breathe?” He asks instead, chuckling quietly as he pulls away from the kiss. Hannibal reaches down and takes Will’s hand that’s wrapped around his cock and intertwines their fingers, ridding him of friction.

There’s a soft kiss pressed to his lips, tongue running over the indents of Hannibal’s teeth that had been left there, bruises promised. “Fuck me,” Hannibal whispers, pulling Will up to where he’s straddling his thighs. Will makes a noise in the back of his throat and presses the kiss further, moving back so he can slot himself between Hannibal’s thighs.

The water has cooled down drastically since they started, but both could care less as Hannibal works his teeth against Will’s skin, wanting to devour everything about him. Will gingerly drags a finger past Hannibal’s cock and to his hole, circling the rim as if he’s thinking. There’s a warning bite to his collarbone, and he pressed the finger in. Hannibal takes it better than Will did previously, whispering praises against Will’s skin as he pumps the finger in and out.

He adds a finger after a moment, and it sinks in with little resistance, and he hooks his fingers. He doesn’t get a sound in response, but there’s a sharp bite to his chest that’s bordering on unpleasantly painful. He shivers, and continues to pump and scissor his fingers, stretching Hannibal slowly.

As he adds a third finger, their lips connect slowly, almost with hesitance if he didn’t know any better. He knows that Hannibal is trying to get back is control and composure, but Will’s fingers are keeping that away from him. And then, “You’re not allowed to cum.” He lets out a sound of indigence and offense.

“What if I do?” He asks as he pointedly thrusts his fingers in, earning a gasp from the older.

“I get another round. If you don’t, you’ll get to release in my mouth.” It’s so promising, and he thinks of the outcome of both. He’ll most likely be over sensitive if he does, but he doesn’t know if he can last that long while inside of Hannibal. “Tomorrow morning,” Is then said and he huffed a laugh.

“No, that’s unfair.”

“It isn’t. You’ve been unfair.”

“Well, at least I’m not telling you you can’t cum,” He playfully scowls at him and removes his fingers, swiping them through the water. He then positions himself in front of Hannibal, but gets held back by a hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He lets out an offended sound.

“No cumming, Will,” He says again, like Will’s a misbehaving child. He wants to roll his eyes, wants to feel the seething anger and disapproval from Hannibal but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods and flutters his eyelashes. The blocking hand on his cock is removed and put on his hip and Will positions himself back again.

He pushes in slowly, stopping when he hears a hiss of discomfort from his lover. He slowly eases himself in, getting trapped by Hannibal’s legs that wrap around his waist and hold him in place once he bottoms out. He’s panting quietly, pressing his forehead to Hannibal’s neck, wanting so badly to move.

Still, he sits there patiently, waiting for Hannibal to settle into the full feeling of Will inside of him. The water is almost cold now, but both are so deep into the moment that if the water had drained they wouldn’t have noticed.

By now, Will’s hair had begun to dry, damp but spiraling into curls as they air dry. Hannibal pets at his hair absentmindedly, letting them sit there past the point where he was adjusted, enjoying the feeling of Will’s breath ghosting over his skin. He purposely makes his heels press into Will’s back uncomfortably, tense muscles resisting the push.

He finally slackens his grip and coaxes Will into moving his hips, and once he does so it makes both of them shudder. He turns his head to catch his lips, licking into his mouth with greedy intentions. The thrusts are slow and shallow, hesitant and he knows Will is worried about hurting him.

He digs his fingers into Will’s shoulders, urging him to go faster, deeper, harder, to tear Hannibal apart. He responds how he wants, thrusts turning rough and demanding, chasing an orgasm that is held over his head. Hannibal releases him from the kiss and lets his head fall back onto the tub wall, letting Will do the work this time.

The water ripples away from them in response to Will’s thrusts, hitting against the tub walls. Hannibal watches him through heavy lidded eyes, small noises leaving him. He finds it amusing that no matter how much Will tries to gain that control and dominance, in the end he always gets it back. Of course, there’ll be some days where he’ll hand it over just for a round or two, letting Will loose like taking a leash off a snarling and barking dog.

Maybe he’ll get Will a collar and treat him like one, since he likes dogs so much, Hannibal thinks to himself, a smile pulling at his lips. He reaches a hand down between them and tugs at himself, pumping his cock as Will presses against his prostate, a spark of pleasure shooting up his spine.

He growls, lifting his hips abruptly, a hurt sound leaving Will’s throat as his cock slides out. Hannibal moves them to where Will is where he was seconds before, and Hannibal’s in front of him. He sinks down on his cock once more, rolling his hips forward, his own cock dragging across Will’s stomach. “My darling boy, you’re doing so well,” He mumbles to him, beginning to fuck himself on Will’s cock.

Hands grip at his ass and thighs, Will thrusting up to meet his hips. “Hannibal,” He huffs out his name like a prayer, blue eyes watching him through a thick layer of eyelashes. “Gonna cum soon, please.”

“You know the rules and punishment, Will,” He says in reply, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him slowly. He pauses and leans back, unplugging the bath to let the water drain slowly, gone cold. Once done, he turns his attention back to Will and continues the pace, relentless even with the warning.

He drags his hands up Will’s body, letting them dip into the creases and settle at his neck. If he presses, he could choke him, but they just rest there as a threat, and he can feel Will’s cock twitch at it. It’s such a rich promise, and as Hannibal feels Will’s orgasm rolling up by the tensing of his body and the flutter of his eyelashes, he presses.

No sounds escape Will as he cums, and he doesn’t struggle, but he holds eye contact with Hannibal as he releases into him. He continues to fuck himself back, even once Will’s orgasm has passed. He then loosens his grip and Will sucks in a sharp breath, chest rising and falling as he gulps for air.

Once his orgasm has hit him, Will was shaking with over sensitivity and the water was gone now. His loads streak across Will’s stomach, adding to the mess that hadn’t been washed off fully before. He kisses him sweetly between his eyes and then pulls himself off, shivering at the loss and the feeling of Will’s release dripping out.

He stands up, letting Will lay there as he pulls the shower head off the grip, turning the water on. It hisses out sharply, hitting against the wall of the tub as he adjusts the temperature. He then points the spray to Will, smiling as he squirms away, the water not yet heated yet. “Hannibal!”

He keeps it pointed at Will until it’s warmed up, and then gets to work on cleaning them both off. He wipes Will down with his hand, not bothering on grabbing a washcloth from the towel rack that’s hung up by the shower. He then rinses himself off and then shuts the water off, putting the shower head back on the grip.

“I’m not going for another round,” Will mumbles as Hannibal helps him up, supporting his shaking legs. Almost like a fawn, learning how to walk, Hannibal thinks as they step out of the tub and onto the plush bath mat.

“Tomorrow, then,” He whispers in reply, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He helps dry them both off with a towel, knowing Will wants to sleep by the way his eyelids droop and his movements grow sluggish. It’s amusing how minutes before he was teasing and smug, a Cheshire Cat grin on his face as he teased Hannibal slowly.

He leaves Will in the bathroom to go get clothes for both of them, grabbing casual clothing for himself and pajamas for Will. Entering the bathroom, he sees Will had leaned himself against the wall and was slowly nodding off. Hannibal sets the clothing on the counter and tosses the towel into the dirty laundry for later, working slowly so Will had time to rest against the wall.

He dresses Will first, helping him step into the comfortable pants and soft sweater. They both were Hannibal’s, so the pants just barely fit and the sweater sleeves were slightly longer than Will’s arms. He then got dressed into the white dress shirt and slacks, not quite ready to go to sleep. He leads Will to their bedroom, hiding his amusement as Will all but tosses himself onto the bed.

He lifts the covers and waits for Will to get under them, and then pulls them up to his chin. He looked so soft in that moment and Hannibal just wanted to stay there for the rest of the day and draw Will over and over again, emphasizing all the details and curves of his face and hair. Instead, he places one last kiss on his forehead and then leaves the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took 3 hours to write and i wrote it at a reasonable time (7 pm to 10)  
> but im editing and posting it at 3 am and listening to every time we touch so that's why it's better writing than the last chapter
> 
>  
> 
> i didnt mean to write 3 thousand but it just got worse and worse but the ending is rushed and terrible :)  
> also if stuff doesn't make sense it's because i just write random words and hope they make sense aka i have no fucking clue what im doing im no professional writer
> 
>  
> 
> default dances out of the room

**Author's Note:**

> should i do a second chapter for the shower blowjob  
> or just leave it at this


End file.
